


save you from the storm

by dreamsofolicity



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-07 23:59:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15918870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofolicity/pseuds/dreamsofolicity
Summary: An unexpected tragedy and a vague phone call from Diggle brings Felicity to Starling General Hospital in the middle of the night, setting her on a course she never expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU where Felicity and John are called to the hospital where Oliver is the same night as Moira's death. Instead of disappearing, Oliver agrees to go with Felicity.
> 
> I know that this isn't an update to any current fics but I'm easing my way back into the pairing with a short little thing that won't be more than a few chapters, hopefully. Updates to my main fics will be coming soon, I promise.

Felicity Smoak hated hospitals. From the chemical smell to the terrible food and the overwhelming atmosphere of solemnity. She felt dread every time she had to walk through the doors and yet she couldn’t bring herself to hesitate when she got the rushed phone call from John Diggle telling her what happened. She hurried through the main doors with her hair slipping out of the messy bun she’d piled it into before running out of her apartment and Dig’s words still lingering on the edges of her mind.

_ Slade attacked. I don’t know the details. Get to Starling General. _

She didn’t even have time to ask if Oliver was okay before the line cut off but a thousand possibilities were whirling through her mind as she took the stairs to the right floor because the elevator was taking too long to get to her. Felicity stumbled out of the stairwell and tried to catch her breath, leaning her hand against the wall as she searched the two hallways she could see for any sign of a familiar face. A fair bit of wandering, unheeded since no one seemed to be around, led her to a corridor that was vacant apart from two men.

To say that her entire body filled with an overwhelming, dizzying sense of relief at the sight of Oliver alive was an understatement. Yet she knew that something was wrong. Dig was standing a fair distance from Oliver, his thick arms crossed over his chest and a look of mingled pity and indecision on his face as he looked at the man they’d both come to know. Oliver was hunched in a chair, his elbows braced on his knees and his face buried in his hands. Felicity traced her eyes over him, dread settling in her chest as she tried to figure out what happened.

The suit he was wearing at Verdant’s event for Moira was rumpled, the jacket discarded on the chair next to him to show the dried stains of blood on his white shirt. She could see a white bandage on his forehead peeking out from beneath his hands and there was what looked like dirt smudged on his black pants. As she took a slow step forward, her breath caught in her chest, Dig finally took notice of her and pushed off of the wall to cross over to her. His hand lifted, cupping her elbow lightly as he ducked his head to speak to her in low tones.

“Slade crashed into the limo and took Oliver, Thea, and Moira,” he said, his words making her blood run cold.

“Who?” Felicity said, already knowing what must have happened.

Her eyes were fixed on Oliver, knowing that he’d lost someone tonight. She could only pray that it was one member of his family, knowing without a doubt that losing both would shatter his already bruised heart.

“Moira,” Dig said.

Felicity let her eyes shutter closed for just a moment, remembering briefly the woman that she feared, disliked, and respected all at once. Moira Queen was undoubtedly strong, albeit conniving and terrifying. Felicity understood how she came to be that way. Standing against Malcolm Merlyn was no small thing. She admired that while also knowing that the lengths Moira went through to protect her own secrets made her a person layered with shades of moral grey. Opening her eyes, she nodded at Dig and took a deep breath before moving forward one slow step at a time.

Oliver didn’t even flinch at her approach. He barely twitched when she took the seat next to him, her eyes darting over every inch of him before her hand raised to settle gently over his shoulder. Oliver inhaled sharply and shivered but didn’t pull away. Felicity kept her hand there for a long few moments, watching him closely. When he didn’t move, her eyes darted up to Diggle and she saw him staring back with worry knitting his eyebrows close together. There was no answer for her in his gaze. Then Oliver shifted, slowly unfurling until he was sitting up.

Felicity’s hand fell away as she watched him rub his thumb and forefinger together, his eyes trained on the wall across from them. A long stretch of silence was distantly interrupted by someone paging a doctor over the intercom system and nurses shuffling around to check on their patients. There were a thousand things that Felicity wished that she could say but for once in her life, the words wouldn’t rise to her lips. She felt like she was weighed down, tied at the metaphorical wrists as she scrambled for what to do here.

“Is-is there anyone you want us to call?” she finally managed, her eyes darting to Diggle before moving back to Oliver’s scarily blank face. “Walter or… or Laurel?”

It took a few seconds for Oliver to shake his head.

“They’ll find out soon enough,” he finally said, his voice hoarse and heavy.

His eyes darted to a closed door, fixing on it for a long time before he spoke again.

“Thea’s in there,” Oliver said, his voice shaking a little as he said his sister’s name. “She was almost hysterical so they sedated her for the night.”

The implications of that settled heavily on Felicity’s heart. Nineteen was too young to have to go through any of this.

“You need to rest too, Oliver,” Dig spoke up.

“I can’t,” he breathed out, shaking his head minutely. “I close my eyes and-”

Oliver cut off but it was easy enough to know what he was about to say. Felicity’s heart ached for this man who had to watch both of his parents die right in front of him.

“At the very least, you shouldn’t be alone,” Felicity said, reaching out before she knew it to clasp her hand over his. “What can we do?”

Oliver’s head finally turned, his haunted eyes settling on hers. Felicity had to swallow the thick lump that rose in her throat, hating the suffering she could see in those brilliant blue depths. It was too much to happen to one man. A part of her, deep in her chest, ached to tear the burden from his shoulders. The reality was almost hard to believe, that someone could make their way into her very soul in such a short period of time but Felicity knew on a basic level that Oliver had her the second that he walked into her cubicle with a laptop full of bullet holes.

“I think alone is exactly what I should be right now,” he said wearily, his eyes darting away from her again.

Felicity shook her head, refusing to let that stand.

“You’re wrong,” she said.

_ I care about you,  _ her heart whispered.  _ Let me in. _

“I get it, man, trust me,” Diggle said, stepping closer to them. “Your instinct is to shut yourself away.”

It was true. Oliver did exactly that after Tommy died. Felicity was damned if she’d let him disappear a second time.

“Everyone around me is still in danger,” Oliver said, his voice laden with exhaustion.

“What do you think the odds of Slade coming after you again tonight are?” Felicity asked quietly, knowing that she was right even as she spoke.

He shook his head, frustration flitting across his face. Felicity couldn’t help but feel glad to see it. At least it was something.

“I can’t leave Thea,” he said.

“I’ll stay and watch after her,” Diggle said, sounding determined to do exactly that. “Go change out of those clothes and get some rest, Oliver.”

“I can give you a ride,” Felicity offered without a second thought. “I have a bed with your name on it.”

Her cheeks warmed as soon as both Oliver and Dig looked at her and she trapped her lower lip between her teeth, shaking her head with a heavy sigh.

“A spare bed,” she amended, silently cursing herself. “All yours.”

There was dim amusement on Diggle’s face but Oliver didn’t betray a thing as he slowly pushed himself up and out of the chair. As if she was connected to him by a string, Felicity rose with him and watched as he took a slow, limping step forward, still favoring his injured knee.

“I need to go to the manor,” he said.

A pang of sympathy struck Felicity square in the chest and she opened her mouth to protest, unable to bear the thought of him sitting in the middle of the huge house with nothing but ghosts for company. But then Oliver looked her square in the eye and whatever she saw on his face made the words die on her lips.

“For clothes,” Oliver said.

Felicity nodded, pulling her purse up higher on her shoulder.

“I’m parked in the garage under the hospital,” she said, pulling her keys out.

Oliver looked to Dig, who nodded without having to hear a word.

“I’ll let you know if anything changes with Thea,” he said.

Felicity moved with Oliver, still feeling inexplicably tethered to him as they walked slowly to the elevator together. She had no idea what the rest of the night would bring but she had the strangest feeling that it was only beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful response so far!

Every step she took felt weighted like she was dragging her feet through fluid cement. Felicity could count the number of times she’d been to the Queen mansion and she never felt comfortable in the artfully decorated rooms. Yet she didn’t hesitate to follow Oliver through the door, her eyes fixed on his back as she saw his already tense shoulders grow even stiffer. As soon as she closed the door behind her, he turned just slightly with his head bowed, his eyes not meeting hers.

Felicity knew what she’d see there if he looked at her. Tangles of grief and guilt and anguish that no one could unravel, much less her. But she could do her best to make sure he wasn’t alone through it all. As much as she wanted to reach out and give him some level of comfort, even if it was just a squeeze of his hand or a quick embrace, Felicity knew that he was keeping his distance for a reason and didn’t want to push him. She may not have known everything about the man in front of him but she knew more than he gave her credit for.

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” Oliver said, his voice quiet. “You can wait here.”

Felicity nodded her head, her keys digging into her palm as she held them tightly. She understood that he didn’t want a shadow on him everywhere he went. It was surprising enough that he invited her to come inside instead of requesting that she wait in the car. But she wasn’t going to question anything. Not tonight. Her eyes followed his movements as he walked to the stairs and climbed them slowly, his weariness echoing in every step he took.

As soon as he disappeared up to the second level, Felicity lowered her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out, her exhale sounding incredibly loud in the too quiet mansion. Her eyes darted around, trying to find something to fixate on so that she didn’t lose her mind standing here. Finally, she settled on the table that stood only a few feet away. Felicity had seen it before but since her visits to this house were always mission-oriented, even at parties, she never got the chance to really look at the photographs.

This house was so unlike anything she grew up in. The apartments she lived in with her mother as a kid were barely livable at times but in spite of that, they always felt like home. Her mother always chose to see the best every single place, decorating it in her usual colorful style but also scattering what artwork she had with the dozens of pictures she was determined to hang. Most of them were Felicity either by herself or with her mother but a few featured some friends or Felicity’s maternal grandparents. Their apartments felt like home.

Felicity couldn’t imagine feeling like that in a place like this but as she looked over the collection of carefully chosen photographs in beautiful frames, she felt like maybe the Queens found their little pieces of home in similar ways to her and her mother. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly at the photograph of Robert Queen with a young Oliver, maybe seven or eight, perched on his knee. The picture next to it featured a bright-eyed young Thea Queen grinning at the camera with her front bottom tooth missing.

Her eyes traced over each and every picture, mapping out this small glimpse at the Queen family. Her eyes settled on a picture near the middle. It was the only picture of Moira alone, not a hair out of place as she sat cross-legged on a couch Felicity thought might be in the main living room. She was much younger, her eyes downcast and a soft smile playing on her face as she watched something playing out on the ground out of the camera’s view. Felicity’s gaze didn’t waver from the photograph. She stared and stared, unable to understand why she couldn’t tear her attention away from it.

Then she felt the slight burn in her eyes and blinked, inhaling out of surprise when she felt a tear trace a slow path down her cheek. Felicity didn’t bother to wipe it away, nor the two that followed. Her body shuddered as she finally realized the full weight of what happened that night. To Felicity, Moira Queen felt like an immovable object. Steadfast and stubborn and _inevitable_ , much like her son. But now she was gone and there was nothing to be done. No miracle to drum up and no line of code that would bring back the mother of the man that Felicity loved more than anyone.

The second realization made her heart skip a beat in her chest, her breath catching in her throat and another few tears falling as she clasped her trembling hand more tightly around her keys. It wasn’t really any secret that she had strong feelings for Oliver. But love… that was new. Moira saw it. She was probably used to women falling head over heels for Oliver and likely used it to her advantage quite often, just like she tried with Felicity.

Still, Felicity looked at the photograph of Moira, trying to catch her breath as she mourned for someone she didn’t really like all that much, who severely underestimated her. Oliver always moved quietly and this was no exception. Felicity didn’t even notice his reappearance until she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and caught sight of him almost halfway down the stairs, his eyes fixed on her.

She turned her head away quickly, wiping the wetness from her cheeks and willing herself to get it together. He didn’t need to see her like this. Not when his own grief outmatched hers exponentially. Felicity had to be strong for Oliver. Falling apart, even if she didn’t understand why, wasn’t an option. She felt rather than heard his approach until he was standing less than a foot away from her. Felicity risked a glance and him and saw that his eyes were fixed on the same picture of his mother that caught her attention before.

“She was looking at us,” he said in the same hushed voice. “Thea was around two, I think. I was playing with her on the ground.”

Felicity’s eyes darted over the photograph, reading the hints of softness on Moira’s face. Years of difficulty hardened her. It was impossible to entirely blame her for that. Losing a husband and son that she clearly loved before becoming Malcolm Merlyn’s coerced accomplice took a good amount of the softness from her. But she still loved her children. Felicity knew that even before she heard Oliver’s next words.

“He wanted me to choose,” Oliver said, pain and anger threaded in his words. “My mom or my sister.”

Her gasp caught in her throat, her heart wrenching at the idea of Oliver having to make that choice. Her eyes moved away from the picture and towards him but he didn’t look back, still staring down at the image of the woman he lost that night.

“I wouldn’t do it. I tried to… it should have been me.”

Felicity sank her teeth into her lower lip, forcing down the affronted cry that rose to her tongue, not wanting to even entertain the thought of Oliver dying. A part of her felt guilty for it but she couldn’t help but imagine how ripped apart she’d be if the phone call from Dig had been much, much different. If it had been Oliver dead instead of his mother.

“I wouldn’t make the choice,” Oliver said, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes tightened, looking glassier than before as his lower lip trembled slightly. “She did. She… offered herself up.”

Horror and grief filled her in equal measure as she looked at the picture of Moira yet again. It wasn’t hard to wrap her mind around that. Sacrificing herself for her children, after everything she’d done to keep them safe, was a very Moira Queen thing to do. And Felicity’s heart broke for the siblings that were left behind to deal with that. It didn’t take long for her eyes to burn, her throat growing thick and her breath hitching as a single tear slipped down her cheek. She felt Oliver’s eyes on her, meeting his gaze for a moment as the tear caught on her lip just before Felicity quickly wiped it away.

“I’m sorry,” she huffed, shaking her head as she wiped her eyes. “This is the last thing you need to be dealing with.”

“It’s okay,” Oliver said.

Felicity let her hand drop, staring back at him as she saw the barest traces of wonder and uncertainty in those blue depths. His hands twitched at his side, his body curving towards her as if he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted. Even though she was far from a body language expert, Felicity felt like it was all too easy to decipher exactly what he wanted, even if he didn’t know it. Reaching out, she slowly stepped into his space and wound her arms around his shoulders, pressing her cheek against his chest and lifting onto her toes as she hugged him firmly yet with enough gentleness that he could easily break away if he wanted to.

But then, after several moments of awkward stiffness in which she cursed herself silently, Oliver’s arms lifted and his arms slid around her, his hands spanning over her back as he turned his face, burying it in the side of her neck. Felicity was incredibly aware of the press of their bodies and the feeling of his warm breath on her skin but in the same way that she was always aware of Oliver, moving around him just like he moved around her, naturally… as if they’d been doing it forever.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” Felicity murmured, closing her eyes. “I can’t do anything to make this go away but I promise I’m not going anywhere. I’m here with you. _For_ you. As long as you need me.”

It took a while until she felt him exhale, the tension draining from his muscles even as he held her, molding them together even more than they were.

“Thank you,” Oliver breathed out shakily.

Felicity didn’t say anything. Not in reply to his words. Not about the wetness she felt on her neck or the occasional shudder she felt from this man who deserved so much more than the pain he got. She just held him close, even as her calves grew tired from holding her up on her toes and her arms ached from being lifted for so long. Felicity ignored it all, simply holding him as long as it took, until they separated and he wordlessly nodded that he would be okay. He grabbed the duffle bag at his feet and walked out at her side, their shoulders brushing and their steps matching as they made their way to her car, both feeling just a little bit lighter than before.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at @sunshineolicity


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